


Father and Child

by rebelle_elle



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Bad Parenting, Gen, Parent-Child Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-24
Updated: 2011-10-24
Packaged: 2017-10-24 22:39:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/268670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rebelle_elle/pseuds/rebelle_elle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bob tries to give Noah parenting advice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Father and Child

“You’re spoiling her.”

Noah supposed Bob could see the teddy bear from Finland inside the shopping bag and ignored the urge to push it under his chair. Normally, he would have left it in the waiting area, but Elle had been waiting to come see her father, and Noah didn’t trust her not to look in the bag and decide the bear was hers. “It keeps her happy.”

He watched as Bob’s features stopped just short of a scoff. “If you give her everything, Noah, she won’t thank you. I’ve been a father longer than you have, and trust me, it doesn’t get better.”

Trust Bob Bishop? Listening to him give parenting advice was hard enough. “Claire’s a very sweet girl.”

Bob gave him one of those smiles that reminded him of a snake, cold and joyless. “You only think that because you get to travel so much. You’re a lucky man, Bennet.”

Noah clamped down on the part of him that wanted to shoot Bob in the head and walk out, maybe take Elle with him. He had no doubt Elle would be waiting outside the door, hoping her father would call her at any moment. God knew what she would be like if the Haitian didn’t keep taking her memories of the experiments away.

Bob was still waiting for him to agree that he was lucky to spend so much time away from Claire. Of course he would think Noah was lucky; Bob was only interested in fatherhood when he wanted to seem normal to other people. If Elle Bishop turned out remotely normal by the time she was twenty-five, Noah would eat his own shoe.

“Sandra and I are very fortunate to have Claire and Lyle,” Noah said at last, his tone perfectly neutral.

Bob nodded, not believing him in the slightest. “And Claire hasn’t shown any signs of developing an ability?”

Noah tensed, though he supposed he should be accustomed to such questions by now. “None,” he lied smoothly.

Behind them, the office door inched open, and Noah half-turned to watch. He’d expected an agent, but then saw a wisp of blond bangs before the door quickly shut again.

“Elle! Stop playing with the door!” Bob snapped. A shadow quickly disappeared from the crack at the bottom of his office door. He shook his head and looked to Noah. “Children. No concept of when and where they’re wanted.”

Noah didn’t react as Bob studied the papers on his desk again. It wasn’t as if anything he said would make a difference, and he had his own daughter to think about.


End file.
